"'Shove it up your ass', that's Batman, circa now!"
#MUSESMYWAY
an independent & selective multimuse rp blog for both canon and original characters. featured fandoms include DC COMICS, RoboCop, Cyberpunk 2077 and DOOM. all my muses are multiverse and multiship. please read rules before following. All characteers are canon divergent unless stated.
PORTRAYALS BY FOX, 30, they/them, 18+ only for interactions, minors and non-rp blogs do not interact!!
#MUSESMYWAY. a multi-fandom multimuse. featuring: SUPERMAN/CLARK KENT, ABSOLUTE BATMAN, THOMAS WAYNE/FLASHPOINT BATMAN, ROBOCOP (1987), AND THE DOOMSLAYER/DOOMGUY && more.
written and beloved by Fox (30, they/them, Australian EST). indie, selective but non-mutual.
✦ ⋆ 𖤓 ⋆ ✦ 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄 ··· a collection of injuries tended in silence, pain worn like armour, the intimacy of being seen at your worst. genre: hurt and comfort, angst, romance, drama.
• You're bleeding through your shirt. Don't tell me you're fine.
• How long have you been walking around like this?
• I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to see how bad it is.
• You should have told me the moment it happened.
• Hold still. I mean it. Hold still.
• This is going to sting. Bite down on something if you need to.
• You've been hiding this for days, haven't you.
• Who did this to you? I need you to tell me who did this.
• Stop being brave for five minutes and let me help you.
• I've seen worse. I've also seen men die from worse, so let me look at it.
• I found the bandages in the trash. You want to explain that?
• Don't you dare apologize for bleeding on me.
• Your hands are cold. That's not a good sign.
• I'm not angry. I'm terrified. There's a difference.
• Come into the light. Let me see your face.
• You should have stitches. I know you won't go. So sit down and let me do what I can.
• You're white as a sheet and still trying to stand up straight.
• I could hear you in the night. I didn't say anything. I'm saying something now.
• Don't look at it if it makes it worse. Just look at me.
• It's not weak to let someone see you hurt.
• You came to me. Of all the places you could have gone, you came here.
• Lay back. You're not getting up until the color comes back to your face.
• I'm not going to ask what happened. Not yet. First let me fix what I can.
• You've been holding your left side since you walked in. Think I didn't notice?
• This is going to leave a mark. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
• I've patched up a lot of people in my time. None of them scared me like you do right now.
• You could have died out there. You could have died and I would have been the last person to know.
• Sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere.
• You're allowed to make a sound. Nobody's watching.
• I need you to stay awake for me. Just a little longer. Talk to me.
• You're lucky the cut wasn't deeper.
• Stop apologizing for needing help. Stop it right now.
• I've seen what it looks like when someone's used to this. That's what scares me most about you.
• Tell me your name. Tell me what day it is. Stay with me.
• You're going to be alright. I promise you.
• You went back out there after this? With this?
• Nobody takes care of you, do they? That ends tonight.
• I've been gentle with you. I need you to be honest with me in return.
• You're safe now. You're here, you're safe, and I've got you. Just breathe.
He stood calmly, for the moment; studying the computer before him. He's here doing his own investigations and he needed to be sure. Not that anyone's going to hear him over the loud music playing over the speakers in the other room, but still, Murphy would rather be careful considering he needed to connect to the computer and thus would be somewhat vulnerable with his focus split on the data and bypassing whatever security was on this system.
Still, once he's relatively sure he'll be fine, he lifts his hand, curling his fingers into a fist to produce the data spike hidden in his hand before moving to insert it into the necessary port and locking into the system. He was planning on reviewing security tapes, he had the warrant to do so, he just didn't want to ruin the fun in the other room.
He does look up from the screen when the door to the room he's in opens and he watches the other carefully. He had what he needed at this point so he pulls the spike free, letting it slide back into his hand, not at all hiding what he had been doing. "I hope you're not here to interfere with my investigation." Murphy speaks firmly, a hidden warning in his tone that it probably won't end well for them if they were.
He's giving her a lot of names, a lot of information. All the edge pieces of a larger puzzle, picture still unclear. But frankly, she's used to working with less. The way she understands it, this Gordon person was someone he was close to. It sounds like he found out the truth about Bruce's origins and either couldn't handle being a pawn in larger game of chess, or... was an unwilling sacrifice made to protect whatever king was behind this all. Also in his court was a doctor who took ethics as a suggestion rather than law; someone who'd agreed to run some kind of longitudinal study on Bruce that included using murder and trauma as some kind motivator, to push him into the Batman persona. And to make sure there were no uncontrolled variables that could impact his efforts, he erased those perpetrators too.
All this, just to have a laugh at a play on words; create some sort of irony at the expense of a child.
You're a wolf. How could you raise a sheep?
That's all it boiled down to.
"It sounds to me like you were a kid who was targeted by some sick fucks for a laugh." Despite the harsh language, her tone remains calm. "But that doesn't mean that's all you are, or all you'll ever be. You still have a lot of time to find yourself. And you don't have to play their game anymore to do it."
Part of him still wants to insist that it isn't true, that it's just some game that was made up to mess with him. Hell, that was still a possibility. It's not like Grimm didn't know who he was, because he'd spent time in Ark M as the unwilling Subject 27. That's a different story, however, one he's kind of come to terms with already, in his own way. Somehow what Bane had done to him was easier to move on from than this new information, it doesn't help that he's pushed most of his support network away, or he's lost them in some way. He feels alone in this.
He looks at her again as she speaks, at least briefly before he looked down again. He didn't want to give up Batman, some part of him knows that despite the fact the idea might have been planted it doesn't change a damn thing about the crusade he'd started.
"...I don't think I'm gonna stop being the Bat," Bruce's already put too much effort into that to stop, "...I think I'm just having a hard time wrapping my head around it, that someone could take joy in doing that to a kid like me and not bat an eye. I can't even talk to my mom about it, because...she's missing." Crane said she'd gone to talk to the Owls and it hadn't ended well, Bruce didn't want to think about what that meant.
Well, he certainly has more restraint than the rest of the cops. She'd give him that. At this point, her comments would have at least gotten weapons drawn and the threat of arrest from some of her old coworkers. Of which she'd never comply, because fuck them!
"Apprehend? That's it?" She is both disturbed and unsurprised. "Don't you think that, if arresting this guy actually worked, he wouldn't have a list of them a mile long?"
The man in question is what she likes to call a yo-yo - a blue yo-yo specifically: an individual who is constantly in and out of jail or holding because the penalties they receive for their transgressions are minimal or non-existent, thanks in part to some kind of connection to law enforcement or the criminal justice system. In this case, she happens to know that the suspect in question is one of the sergeant's kid: a wild twenty-something college drop out who was suspended following some rather disturbing allegations from other students. And his behavior was escalating.
Harassment, stalking, a rejected attempted a restraining order, destruction of property, attempted breaking and entering. All swept away as mere disturbance of the peace.
She knew what came next.
"No. Arresting him means nothing if he's not facing actual consequences for his actions. You've had your chance to deal with him."
Alex pauses for a moment when she speaks, questioning him using the word apprehend, as if RoboCop could do anything more but give a man due process, let the justice system handle him. His protocols wouldn't let him do anything else, even if he wanted to, not to mention the red tape and rules that came with wearing the badge. He couldn't simply just shoot a man without there being a just cause.
His head tilts, directive 3 blinking across his HUD as she speaks. Not that he needed the reminder. DIRECTIVE 3: UPHOLD THE LAW. He would make sure the man in question faces justice. He's not a cop that could be brought off, but he's also bound by the fact he cannot take the law into his own hands.
"I am afraid, unless his actions conflict with my second directive, I cannot do anything more than arrest him. I am bound by that, by law." Unfortunately, his directives made him more of a stickler for rules than he had been before the augmentation.
"I understand that he has several felony warrants." Which meant the likelihood of him being able to arrest him were slim, some part of Murphy knew that much, but he cannot go into it expecting to be able to kill the man. "Thus making the chances he will come quietly low, but it is not a police officer's duty to hand out punishment for the crime." If a cop did that, they'd be considered a criminal too. Still, some part of him does understand the frustration at the legal system, but surely she understood that he didn't have a choice in what punishment the courts doled out? There is also that righteous part of himself that is hoping for trouble from the man.
Again, directive 3 blinks across his HUD and he frowns, that sounded awfully like she was going to take matters into her own hand. "I am required to inform you that taking matters into your own hands is considered a crime." The words are out without him really wanting them to be, but it's too late for that now. "I am only here to prevent further harm to his victims. But I have to do it by the book."
She's gentle with her question. The same way she is when she's asking a teenager or a child to describe their feelings about a trauma. Feeling at the edges of a wound to avoid hurting it while it's trying to heal, yet still gathering just enough information to know what happened. The shape of the pain.
From what she's seen of him so far, he's smart, capable, flexible, courageous, compassionate. He's got the ability to do a lot if he puts his mind to it, both in the suit and out of it. But she's noticed that he seems to fall short in his view of himself. Not quite confidence, not quite self-esteem. Something deeper. The internal perspective of one's self, and how they fit into their own worldview. Something akin to an identity crisis.
Though, she supposes maybe that's to be expected when you have an alter ego like his.
He's not surprised by her question, but the way his expression shifts is pretty telling that the reason why he said it is a pretty fresh wound, metaphorically still bleeding and leaving him uncertain. He hasn't had the chance to really talk to anyone about it, not when he'd been trying to and then attacked by the Robins.
Bruce sighs a little, staring at the cup of tea in his hands before he looked beyond it at the cowl again. "...I was given a file recently, I don't know where Mr. Gordon got it, and I didn't get the chance to ask before he....before he jumped..." He frowns a little, "it was called Project Batman, it was full of research notes, photos of me...a full psychological profile. Dr. Crane thought I'd be susceptible to the idea with the right motivation..." And he was right, Bruce grew up to become Batman, like it was expected he would.
"Crane told me it was...for a joke, because my mom was a loyal member of a group called the Court of Owls, and...well...bats are the natural prey of owls..." That's the joke. "He told me it was Grimm's idea, I didn't get the chance to ask the man who killed my dad if he'd been hired to do what he did because Crane made him kill himself too." He looked up slightly, eyes not really focused on much. "...I don't...I don't even know who I am anymore..."
“Ohhh.” Holly seems to immediately accept this explanation. “I was gonna say - you don’t look like Robert Pattinson or Christian Bale.”
The mention of him being in the wrong reality also doesn't seem to surprise her. He isn't the first person to get dropped here from some other timeline. First that guy with the scar across his face, and before that, some super-soldier with a big ass shotgun. Suffice it to say, she had some theories about why they kept getting all sorts of weird characters but hadn't really had the time to look into it beyond cursory hypothesizing.
"Well, start tellin' then. Because if you wanna try and get back, I'm gonna need to know everythin' leading up to you realizing where you were. Or, where you weren't." Classic engineering mindset; if you wanted to solve a problem, start by drawing up a timeline of the symptoms. That would tell you where things went wrong.
"And let's get somethin' straight - I can't make any guarantees about solutions. I only promise to try." It's offered with a slight grin. She was nothing if not honest, even with her capabilities. Building an AI and turning herself into a cyborg was one thing. Building some kind of transdimensional portal or device was another that totally stepped beyond her understanding of science and physics into purely theoretical concepts. And that was something Holly had never had a mind for. She preferred to focus on what was real and tangible.
"That's all we're asking for, Holly." Rayn nods, then glances to Bruce with a small tilt of the head; a signal for him to start explaining.
He recognises those names, they were actors where he came from, and he can assume they're ones who've played the part in this reality on that statement, but he doesn't think he looks like them, or how Holly came to that conclusion without actually having seen his face, but he keeps that to himself.
"I'm not asking for guarantees." He's an engineer by trade, he understands why she's asking all the questions, even if he doesn't fully understand everything else about the situation he's found himself in. Beyond a text book theory, at least. Besides, there's always the chance that he'd get pulled back into his reality one way or another, the same way he'd ended up here in the first place. Really, he just hoped nothing he's been dealing with followed him.
"It...was actually pretty immediate, if I'm honest, about realising I wasn't where I should be." He begins, "I was on my way back to the Cave." It's more like a bunker, but he called it a cave because it still had natural formations in it, regardless he continues. "Heading to the hatch through the sewers, only...it's not there. So I go up to street level, thinking maybe I followed the wrong tunnel. I try to call a friend, Alfred...and my comms don't connect, and once up up top, I don't recognise the street, or the businesses. Which...first I thought maybe I was being messed with, I wouldn't put it past anyone to try at this point." There's a long pause then, "but it even felt different here...I don't know how else to explain it other than there was less of an oppressive weight weighing on me."
"So...I guess somewhere down underground, I stepped into this world. I wasn't doing anything out of the ordinary. But I've been here a few days now, a lot of things started to add up. Then your friend found me." He gestures to Rayn.
As if the future couldn't get anymore dystopian...
To a degree, she supposed it was impressive. It was certainly a marvel of engineering and accessibility progress to essentially give a man a second chance at life through extensive augmentation like this. It was just slightly undercut by the fact that they decided to waste it on a cop. And the lingering grief of how far they were willing to go for one member of their own while they left her partner to die alone, but that's neither here nor there. And, of course, she was certain this wasn't without some significant caveat. Her source on the inside couldn't give her all the details, but knowing how the system worked she was almost positive that he could be used like a some sort of drone to do whatever they wanted and never be held accountable for any of it. A perfect little toy soldier; a test run of new age authoritarian control.
"Sorry. I don't work with pitufos - much less just hand out information to them. That deal expired when I left the force."
It wasn't Murphy's choice to become what he is now, honestly when Boddicker and his crew had murdered him, if OCP hadn't used legal loopholes in his employment contract, he'd very much be another statistic of a violent city. They'd stripped him of everything that made him the man he used to be, replaced it with metal and hardware. If he hadn't started to remember who he was, he'd very much be the machine they'd wanted him to be. They'd taken his name from him, prevented him from being able to reach out to his family, and they love reminding him that he is their machine, his humanity is their inconvenience. He'll never be anything more than OCP Crime Prevention Unit 001 to them. Not human, just a product they created. Never mind what the truth actually was. It probably wouldn't bother him so much if they didn't keep trying to take more and more away from him. However much of a dutiful dog he seems, he's not a loyal one. Not to OCP at least. He's a police officer to help people, not serve as a glorified attack dog.
He seems unsurprised by her response, though he does stare for a long moment to digest it properly, systems translating the insult used. It was...unique, at least. He almost prefers it over being called a machine, or some variation of that, because he's not a machine. And he's aware she uses it in reference to the uniform that he does not wear, not anymore at least.
"I am not expecting a handout, especially from someone with such distain for the badge." He says, brows furrowing under the visor, though his lips draw into a thin line. He wanted to make it clear he got the message that she didn't like him because he's a cop. "I only wish to apprehend the man I am looking for. If you will not help me, I will take my investigation elsewhere."
She knows that expression. Too well. She's seen it in the mirror - in the shards of broken glass - enough times to know it, and the feeling behind it. The bone-deep ache of grief for the living and the dead, that hollow-chested feeling of emptiness where sorrow echoed in every heartbeat. That feeling that left you angry yet powerless at the same time; the desire to lay down and never get up, and the guilt of feeling like you're not doing enough - like you never will.
She doesn't say anything at first. Just watches him for a moment with a soft expression that conveys her understanding. And after a short while, she moves to pass him a warm mug of tea and sit next to him. It's hibiscus ginger with a few drops of citrus extract and honey. Something to help soothe the ache, physically and mentally.
"That's okay. You don't have to know. And you don't have to do anything right now either."
"Take some time for yourself. Maybe try finding something small you'd like to do. It helps."
Bruce has been dealing with this for a while, the uncertainty. Since Bane had attacked his friends to get at the Bat, knowing they won't talk to him now, and now all this new life altering news....Bruce felt like the ground was unsteady beneath his feet, like he's teetering on an edge where he can't see the bottom of the drop, not sure if he falls if he'd be able get back up. It went beyond grief, and he's not even sure how to tell anyone about the mess of complex emotions he feels. Part of him wants to go back to before he knew about the files, but he knows that's impossible.
He looks at the cup as it's pressed into his hands, and he carefully takes it, making sure he had a proper hold of it. He takes a cursory sniff to find out what kind of tea it was. Some soothing blend, he assumes by the scents he can place. He's not normally one for tea, more of a coffee person, but he can understand the gesture anyway. Even if he's not so sure it'll do anything. He sighs and carefully takes a sip, swallows, before he shakes his head slightly.
"I wish it were that easy." It should be, but even the small stuff leads him back to the things Scarecrow told him. "...I'm a fucking joke...." He mutters bitterly, bringing a hand up to his face and rubs at it.
🦊;; thinking about how in Rob.ocop 3 Murphy joins the resistance to defend the refugees in the church from the Rehabs, even though he couldn't fight back bc of his 4th directive at the time-
“Seriously? What— did the precinct send you here? This is a new low, even for them.” — Rayn who is immediately grumpy seeing Robocop
Fox can't find the prompt-
Alex is all too familiar with people being unhappy with his presence, and the human part of him that conflicted with his robotic half understood why. He's a cop, but more than that, he's Robocop, OCP's 'Future of Law Enforcement'. Rayn's grumpiness is almost expected, given that he's more than aware that some people were disillusioned with the police department, more so after OCP had acquired it and privatised it. Not that he listens to any of their bullshit rules if he doesn't agree with them, or if they conflicted with the very directives they'd programmed into him. He's still Alex Murphy under that metal helmet after all.
Blue eyes study her under his visor, scanners briefly taking in her mood, and the environment around him. There's a quiet grunt, or at least a close approximation of that, given his synthetic vocal chords. "I am currently looking for a man who's known to be dealing nuke in this area." Murphy explains his reasons for being here, by being some what honest at least. Not that he can tell a lie, his programming prevents it.
"I am merely here to ask if you have any information on him." He explains, "any assistance would be appreciated, madam." He's polite, even if he gets the feeling the gesture may not be reciprocated. "I am merely following the procedure of investigation."
“I know you’re going through a rough time. Can I get you anything?” - Rayn to Bruce
random dialogue … sentence starters pt. ?
He had the cowl sat down in front of him, with it facing towards him. He'd been staring at it blankly for the last little while, part of him almost expected Barbra's voice to come through it again, asking him if he'd really killed her father, he knows he won't hear it, but it doesn't stop his mind from wandering. As it had quite a bit since Jim had handed him those files, the ones on Project Batman, added onto that was everything Scarecrow had told him when he'd gone to confront Joe in Blackgate, to figure out if he'd known about the set up.
He nearly jumps when Rayn speaks to him, blinking at her before he put his head back against the wall, knees pulled to his chest with his arms laid across them lazily. "...I don't-" He stops, brows furrowing slightly before he looked away and he sighs. Did he need anything? Well...nothing she could actually give him. Her concern makes him feel like he's just trouble for her though, but he keeps that to himself.
"I don't know." He says, swallowing a little bit as let his eyes shift back to her. "I'm just...tired." He says, as if it'd explain the soul deep depression that came with learning your whole life since the age of eight has been a fucking social experiment. A fucking joke. And he can't even confront his mother about the possibility of her knowing because she'd gone missing too. Maybe he should have listened to that damn voicemail she left him instead of deleting it.
He stood calmly, for the moment; studying the computer before him. He's here doing his own investigations and he needed to be sure. Not that anyone's going to hear him over the loud music playing over the speakers in the other room, but still, Murphy would rather be careful considering he needed to connect to the computer and thus would be somewhat vulnerable with his focus split on the data and bypassing whatever security was on this system.
Still, once he's relatively sure he'll be fine, he lifts his hand, curling his fingers into a fist to produce the data spike hidden in his hand before moving to insert it into the necessary port and locking into the system. He was planning on reviewing security tapes, he had the warrant to do so, he just didn't want to ruin the fun in the other room.
He does look up from the screen when the door to the room he's in opens and he watches the other carefully. He had what he needed at this point so he pulls the spike free, letting it slide back into his hand, not at all hiding what he had been doing. "I hope you're not here to interfere with my investigation." Murphy speaks firmly, a hidden warning in his tone that it probably won't end well for them if they were.
A cautious bear searching for someone they can truly connect with. It takes ages for them to fall, but once they open their heart they pour out shockingly deep love. Usually quiet and composed, but for the real one: tons of questions and full-on support.
Often said about them: “Isn't it taking forever for you to fall?”
Personality & love tendencies
◆A careful type who prizes deep spiritual connection and sincerity over anything surface-level
◆Doesn't want to take up your time, guilt wins out, so falling takes super long
◆Matching values is an absolute condition
◆May suddenly cut things off when they hit their limit
◆Usually calm and cool, but pours bottomless love on the one they've opened up to
◆Has high ideals
◆Likes someone who understands deep thoughts, draws them out cheerfully, and is highly empathetic
◆With someone they like: shares weaknesses and true feelings, texts thoughtfully with lots of questions, becomes a complete ally
Bears you're compatible with. Sincere, and able to have deep conversations:
~~~~~~
Stare Bear, INTJ. The quietly obsessed bear
Doesn't show much emotion, but keeps a steady gaze on the one they like. Not into casual flings — once they decide "it's this one," they quietly close in. More action than words: calm on the surface, yet a heavy love seeps through.
Often said about them: “Do you really like me?”
Personality & love tendencies
◆Says very little
◆Hides emotions simply because they don't see the need to show them
◆Moves forward calmly and steadily to build a good relationship
◆No playing around in love
◆Extremely careful before things turn into a relationship
◆Codependent relationships are a no
◆Likes someone independent, grounded, not overly emotional, with a healthy sense of distance
◆Actively supports and gives spot-on backup to the one they love
Bears you're compatible with. Someone who shows their feelings head-on:
tagged by: @wiildcr
tagging: anyone else who wants to do this!!
